


Free Thoughts

by spnfamilyhasasherlockinthetardis



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Kingbury is their ship name fight me, Lafayette and Samuel are friends I don't know why just accept it, M/M, Mention of drinking, Mention of sex, Sam loves poptarts don't question it, panic attack in the second chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-05-22 10:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6075609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnfamilyhasasherlockinthetardis/pseuds/spnfamilyhasasherlockinthetardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One moment Sam had been hanging out with Lafayette at a club, and the next he had been getting in a taxi cab with some stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Hello, My Name is George, Your Husband. Nice to Meet You."

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever posted, so be kind. 0.0
> 
> Shoutout to tumblr user lavosse for being my beta! I don't know how frequently I'm going to update, but I will try to do it often until I get a set schedule or something like that.
> 
> I run an ask blog, so you guys can see more Kingbury or Sammy/Lafayette interactions at:  
> ask-sam-seabury.tumblr.com if you're interested in asking me questions or getting to know more about my little baby Bishop! Thanks for reading! I hope you like it!
> 
> You can also talk to me/ask me questions at I-am-a-blob-fish.tumblr.com.

Sam awoke to the sound of pots and pans banging in his kitchen, as well as cabinet doors closing loudly. What the heck happened last night? He couldn’t remember anything, and a quick turn of his head told him that he didn’t want to.  
One moment he had been hanging out with Lafayette at a club, and the next he had been getting in a taxi cab with some stranger. Lafayette was one of his closest friends, although Sam didn’t know why. They didn’t really agree on anything. Ever. But, they were “work buddies” (they both held different positions in the church: Sam being the bishop and Laf working with the children) and Laf had noticed how Sam didn’t really “have much of a social life” and “maybe we should go out and have fun”. As much as he hated to admit it, Sam really didn’t have much of a social life. He didn’t mind it, though. He got a lot of work done, and he spent a lot of time alone with God. And, in the end, isn’t that the point of life? The quietness of his life had become comfortable, and Sam had never enjoyed being in crowded or loud areas anyways. Lafayette knew nothing about this discomfort, which was probably the main reason that they ended up going to a club. A loud, incredibly sacrilegious club.  
“This isn’t exactly the place where a bishop should be hanging out.” Sam said, turning to leave before Lafayette grabbed his arm, accented voice yelling at him over the music.  
“Come on, have a little fun!” He said, pulling him into the crowd. Eventually, a drink was thrust into Sam’s hands, and he couldn’t remember much after that. He was a lightweight, this much he knew from his college days. He remembered vaguely someone standing over him, leaning down and whispering something into his ear.  
Sam shook his head, running a hand through his hair. That must be the man now in his kitchen. Sam reached over, still laying in bed, and grabbed his phone from the table next to his bed, seeing he had a notification.  
Eight text messages, from Lafayette:  
[Text: 9:00am] Seabuddy, where are you?  
You disappeared last night.  
[Text 10:00am] I just got your voicemail, oh man  
[Text 10:02am] You’re probably asleep ;)  
[Text 10:02am] If you’re not asleep don’t tell me about it, please  
[Text 10:03am] I’m begging you  
[Text 10:06am] I forgot to tell you  
[Text 10:06am] congratulations ;);)  
Sam sighed. He could only imagine what that voicemail to Lafayette had been.  
This was so unlike him. He was usually so neat, tidy, smart; this was definitely not smart. And, looking around his bedroom, neither neat nor tidy. There were clothes strewn everywhere; it looked like a tornado had gone through the bedroom. He saw every piece of what seemed to be a man’s suit - obviously not Sam’s. He had been wearing jeans last night. Who wore a suit to a club? - and wondered for a moment what the guy in his kitchen was wearing, if all of his clothes were in here.  
Sam heard another door close, slam really, and flinched. Why was he so loud? Sam had lived alone for so long, all of this noise threw him for a loop. He hoped this guy left, and soon. He already had a headache, and he hadn’t been up for five minutes. He sighed, throwing the covers off of himself, moving his legs over the side of the bed, flinching slightly at the pain sweeping over his lower half. Definitely wasn’t a smart decision.  
He stood, making his way slowly into the kitchen, bracing himself for the worst. He had no idea who this guy was, what he looked like, or what exactly he was doing.  
He turned the corner, eyes widening slightly at the man standing in his kitchen. He had a hand running through his hair in frustration, facing away from Sam. A lot of things went through Sam’s mind, but one thought stood out in particular: pretentious. He looked incredibly pretentious, so much so that it surprised Sam he could still look that way whilst wearing only underwear. And, although he appeared frustrated, his chin was still in the air as if he was a king in his palace. The other hand, the one not in his hair, sat lazily on his hip as he surveyed the kitchen, and Sam shook his head, bewildered at the sight of him.  
Remaining unnoticed, Sam walked around the island quietly, looking the stranger up and down some more. He had blonde hair, and he was skinny. Not in the ‘I-work-out’ kind of way, but in the ‘I-could-eat-for-a-week-and-not-gain-a-pound’ kind of way.  
Sam grimaced, noticing a set of nail marks on the man’s back. Distracted by the marks, he bumped his hip into one of the chairs positioned at the island, making a loud noise that caused even Sam to jump.  
_This is your own house, why are you sneaking around?_ Sam thought, the only thing that he had time to think before the other man turned and looked at him.  
He smiled broadly, as if he hadn’t just been scared out of his wits, showing two rows of white teeth. This guy was too perfect, almost like he had escaped out of a story book. Sam couldn’t believe that people like this really existed. Upon his turning towards him, Sam noticed something else. He had a trail of marks going up his chest, and part way up his neck. Sam blushed, struck dumb by the sight.  
“Hey!” The stranger said, voice too loud in the quiet space, and Sam winced. If he registered the blush covering Sam’s cheeks, he didn’t say anything. He came forward, crowding into Sam’s space and tilting his chin up, giving him a soft kiss. “Good morning.” He mumbled, stroking his thumb along Sam’s jaw. Sam barely registered the kiss, eyes wide at how comfortable this guy was with him. They didn’t even know each other! Sam stepped out of the man’s grip, the guy letting go almost as an afterthought, not realizing Sam’s awkwardness.  
Sam moved over to the island, sitting down on the aforementioned chair, putting his face in his hands. The man walked back over to where he had been looking over the kitchen, a bounce in his step. “I was going to make you breakfast, I thought you might sleep a little longer. You need it, honestly.” he laughed, mostly to himself, talking a mile a minute, not leaving enough time for Sam to respond. “I thought this was my kitchen at first. I can’t seem to find… what I’m... looking for….” He said, slowly getting lost as his mind went other places. He opened another cabinet, mumbling to himself. “That doesn’t look right….” He closed the door, turning in time to see Sam flinch at the sound. His eyes widened.  
“Are you okay?” He asked, alarmed, rushing over to Sam and putting a hand on either side of his face. “Do you have a headache? Are you sick?” He asked, shooting questions at him like bullets. Sam couldn’t take his loud voice anymore, throwing his hands up and knocking the man’s away. The stranger’s eyes widened for a moment, before narrowing angrily.  
“You don’t have to be rude. I’m just worried.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a step or two away.  
“There’s no need for you to be worried.” Sam said, amazed at this man. He only let out a short laugh in response, and Sam sighed.  
“What are you doing here?” Sam asked, voice rushed, noticing too late how stupid that sounded.  
“I think it’s a little obvious why I’m here.” He said, reaching a hand up to touch at the marks on his neck, almost subconsciously, momentarily forgetting his anger. Or, he was doing it on purpose to try and get Sam flustered. Either way, it was working, and Sam managed to frown through his blush.  
“What are you still doing here? I thought people were supposed to leave after one night stands.” He pointed out, giving George a pointed look. _Please, please, please just leave. You’re too loud, and you’re too all over the place, and you’re too messy, and you’re just too much_ , Sam thought, biting the inside of his cheek.  
The man paused for a moment, cocking his head and giving Sam a weird look before bursting out into laughter, as if he had just remembered something extremely funny.  
“That wasn’t the impression I was getting last night, Sammy.” He said, using the pet name that Sam had hated since he was little, making Sam frown even more. “You’re obviously forgetting a lot of stuff from last night.” The stranger reached a hand up, wiping at invisible tears, and that was when Sam saw it. The ring.  
His face blanched, every ounce of embarrassment, anger, and redness flooding out of his features. The guy held his hand out, trying to keep a straight face.  
“Hello, my name is George, your husband. Nice to meet you.”


	2. XOXO, George.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam stared at George, suddenly feeling numb. Husband? Nobody was even supposed to know he was attracted to men, now what was he supposed to do?

Sam stared at George, suddenly feeling numb. Husband? Nobody was even supposed to know he was attracted to men, now what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t very well tell anyone about this… oh no. Lafayette. He had surely told everyone in the church what had happened by now. Sam could feel his fingers begin to numb, and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. _This can’t be happening._  
George dropped his hand, not noticing Sam’s reaction.  
“I suppose I’m not surprised that you don’t remember anything from last night. Not that I blame you, especially not after-”  
“George.” Sam interrupted, voice thick as he felt the lump growing in his throat. “Could you do me a favor?”  
George stopped, eyes wide, before taking a couple steps forward and grabbing Sam’s hand tightly, and it surprised Sam how grounded he felt by the simple action.  
“Yes?” George looked at him quizzically, the seriousness of Sam’s tone troubling him.  
“Could you go into the bathroom and get a bottle marked ‘Klonopin’?” He asked slowly. It was getting hard to speak, and even harder to say whole sentences. He could barely move, and by this point his legs and arms were numb as well. His heart was beating erratically, and he could hardly breathe. If he didn’t know better, he would swear he was dying. And, right now, it was getting harder and harder to remind himself that he did know better - that he wasn’t dying.  
George nodded gravely, as if this was the most important thing he ever had to do. He let go of Sam’s hand and padded down the hall away from him, still in his underwear. If the situation wasn’t so dire, Sam would have laughed.  
With George’s back turned, Sam squeezed his eyes tighter, and a couple tears dripped on to the counter before he had time to stop them. Not that he could have if he had tried. He heard George’s footsteps coming back down the hall after only a couple moments, and he slowly reached his hand up to wipe at his face. Not for lack of trying, he didn’t manage to move fast enough to keep George from seeing the tears.  
“Sammy? You okay?” He asked, placing the pills in front of him and taking his hand once again. “I got your pills. It says on the bottle that they’re for anxiety? Do you take these on a daily basis, or is this a special occasion?” He asked, at it again with the questions. Sam saw George suck in his cheeks nervously, and he realized that George had no idea what was happening, or how to deal with it. For all he knew, Sam could be having a heart attack or something, and it was obvious how worried he was.  
Sam ignored him and this new revelation, focusing instead on taking deep breaths, something that was hard to do because it felt as if his lungs had stopped working. He shouldn’t even be thinking about this new problem, he should be trying to get his mind off of it. He reached out, slowly, focusing on unfurling his fingers from the tight fists he had made. He grabbed the bottle and tried to open it, to no avail.  
George gently took the bottle out of his hands, opening it with ease and taking one of the pills out before closing it again.  
“Would you like some water?” He whispered, and Sam nodded jerkily. George pressed the pill into Sam’s palm and closed his fingers around it, leaning forward and kissing him lightly on the temple. He stood, getting a cup out of the cabinet and filling it with water, setting it down in front of Sam.  
At this point, Sam was beginning to calm down a little, and the promise of the peace that the pill would bring was enough for him to reach out and take the glass, hand still shaking and fingers still stiff. It was a slow process, and George watched him intently. He wanted to help him, Sam could tell, and his eyes tracked his every movement, flickering quickly between Sam’s face and his hand, searching for a sign that he needed help. His hands were intertwined on the island, and he was fidgeting nervously.  
Sam managed, by the grace of God alone, to only spill the water a little bit while swallowing the pill, and he brought the cup down a little too hard, the sound echoing through the small kitchen. He closed his eyes, putting his head in his hands, waiting for the pill to kick in.  
He nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulders, but he didn’t have the energy to even protest as George slid a hand under his knees, lifting him up and holding him bridal style as he walked them to the couch. Sam weakly lay his head on George’s chest, deciding, for the moment, to ignore their whole situation. His panic attacks were his weakest moments, and if he decided that he wanted to find solace in the strong arms of an attractive man, then so be it. He didn’t have the energy to make any other decision.  
George sat down, laying his head on top of Sam’s, holding him firm in his lap. Sam could hear his heart beating, calm and steady, so unlike his own at the moment, and closed his eyes. He tried to focus on taking deep breaths, as opposed to the feeling of George rubbing small circles into his back and pressing gentle kisses to the side of his head every now and then. Before he knew it he was falling asleep, despite the fact that he'd just woken up, and he couldn't find it in himself to stop it from happening.

\---------------------------------

When Sam woke up he was alone on the couch, and the comforter from his bedroom had been thrown over him. He found himself missing the warm body, but shook his head inwardly. _Hopefully George left and I can just forget all of this._ He sat up, looking around the room. It was afternoon, and a look at the clock on the wall told him that it was around two or three. He could only thank God that it was a Saturday and not a Sunday, although the thought of going into church tomorrow left him feeling nauseous.  
He threw the comforter off and walked into the kitchen, a little unsteady on his feet, but he hadn’t eaten since lunch the previous day. He frowned when he saw a note on the counter, the words written out in big, loopy handwriting. He picked it up gently, scanning over it.

Sammy,  
I went out for a walk, and I’m probably going to come back  
with food, so don’t eat anything! I hope you’re feeling better  
by the time I get back! Love you!  
XOXO,  
George

Sam rolled his eyes. _Who signed their noted with x’s and o’s? Maybe in middle school, but adults? Really?_ Sam sighed, setting the note back down and going to the fridge. Probably coming back with food wasn’t a guarantee, and he was too hungry to wait for something that might not come.  
He shook his head at the contents of the fridge, going to the cabinet instead and pulling down a box of poptarts, taking out a package and putting the box back before sitting down at the island. He ate the poptart slowly, strawberry was ultimately the best flavor, and thought back over his situation.  
He couldn’t very well ignore it, and it was obvious that George was willing to accept it with open arms. Sam, however, couldn’t do that. He didn’t even know anything about this guy, except that he was loud, he didn’t have any boundaries, and was messy. Sam was sure that if he went into his bedroom it would still be as much of a mess as it was this morning.  
George seemed so sure of himself, so willing to just accept that they were married and that was the end of it. And, yeah, he was attractive, but Sam didn’t want to marry someone based on looks. If he were to marry someone, it would be done in a practical way with someone he knew and trusted more than anyone else. And, for all he knew, George was… an axe murderer or something.  
Sam sighed, having finished his poptart, standing and throwing his trash away and sweeping the crumbs off the counter and into the trash. He walked down the hallway and into his bedroom, his thoughts from moments ago confirmed. In fact, it looked like George had gone through Sam’s drawers and made an even bigger mess while trying to find something to wear.  
Sam took a deep breath before starting in on cleaning. He was definitely going to have to talk to George when he got back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I've been sick, and honestly, I'm just really lazy. 
> 
> Thanks to Tumblr user lavosse for beta-ing!
> 
> Thank you for all of your wonderful comments and encouragement! <3
> 
> I hope you guys like it!


	3. “Rule number 1: Don’t call me ‘Sammy’.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George's POV  
> \------------  
> George opened the door to Sammy’s apartment, grateful that Sammy hadn’t locked the door back up again after he had left. It would be awkward trying to get back into his own apartment with this pizza in his hands. Did it count as his own apartment? He and Sammy hadn’t been married for a long time, and they really haven’t had time to discuss where they were going to live… Sammy probably wouldn’t want to move across the ocean, and George had wanted to be away from his family anyways. Maybe they could visit in the summer though…

            George opened the door to Sammy’s apartment, grateful that Sammy hadn’t locked the door back up again after he had left. It would be awkward trying to get back into his own apartment with this pizza in his hands. Did it count as his own apartment? He and Sammy hadn’t been married for a long time, and they really haven’t had time to discuss where they were going to live… Sammy probably wouldn’t want to move across the ocean, and George had wanted to be away from his family anyways. Maybe they could visit in the summer though.. He stopped that line of thinking as he remembered the reality of his situation, putting on his serious face.

            He sighed, going back to the task at hand. He set the pizza down on the counter, going through the kitchen and looking for plates. Did Sammy eat his pizza with silverware? Some people did that. Could he live with a guy who ate his pizza with silverware? George thought about it for a moment before deciding that, yes, he could live with Sammy using silverware on his pizza, because he was definitely going to look cute while doing it. He quickly got out silverware after a couple moments of searching, setting it up nicely on the island. He hadn’t known what kind of pizza Sammy would like, so he just bought pepperoni because... there's no way he could be married to someone who was boring enough to eat just cheese. He looked at the island, setting out napkins as well. He looked through Sammy’s drawers and cabinets again, finally finding his prize: a kettle. He filled it with water, humming to himself. _Does Sammy like tea?_ He thought. _Of course, who doesn’t?_ he answered, continuing to make it without a care in the world.

            He almost didn’t hear his husband coming into the kitchen, and was surprised again when he turned around and saw him in the same spot as before. He put a hand over his heart, smiling wide.

            “Sammy!” He exclaimed, wanting to hug him but not wanting him to become overwhelmed like before. He was practically jumping with energy, trying his hardest not to pounce on him. He had come to the conclusion that it had been his fault, and Sammy was probably a totally different person while drunk. George just had to get to know him. They had a lot of catching up to do.

            “I got pizza! I didn’t know what kind you liked so I just got pepperoni because... well, it's the best! And I tried to make the island look as nice as possible, but I probably could have added a flower or something…” He put a hand on his chin, entirely focused on exactly what type of flower would complete the scene.

            “Thank you….” Came Sam’s nervous reply, and he sat down, opening the box hesitantly. George sat down across from him as well, watching him intently as he carefully picked a piece and set it on the plate before him. George silently took his own piece of pizza, watching Sam inquisitively as he folded his hands and prayed silently.

            “Are you religious?” He asked, not noticing Sam’s cringe at the interrupted prayer.

            “Yes. I’m a bishop.”

            “A bishop? What do bishops do?” He asked, looking incredibly interested, and Sam seemed to relax. _Could I live with a bishop?_... _Yes. Especially one like Sam._

            “I’m in charge of two different churches, right now. I’m their voice when it comes to talking to the denomination.” He explained.

            “What denomination is that?” George asked.

            “Episcopal…” Sam said slowly.

            “That’s really cool. I’ve never met an episcopal before.” He teased, taking a bite of his pizza before shooting up. “I forgot drinks, I’m sorry.” He said, hurriedly taking the kettle off the stove as it began to whistle. He quickly got tea set up, handing some over to Sam, as well as a cup for himself. Sam nodded his thanks, running his thumb over the side of the cup, biting at his lower lip. George watched him, trying not to stare but finding himself unable to stop. Sam started speaking, but it took George a couple of moments to tune in.

            “-about… what happened last night…” Sam seemed incredibly nervous and worried, and George opened his mouth to speak.

            “I know that it’s a lot to take in, Sammy, especially since you don’t remember, but if I can just explain-“ Sam interrupted him.

            “I… don’t know how to tell you this, but I just… don’t think that there’s a way to go about this without getting an annulment. We hardly know each other, and if this gets out… I could lose my job. I’m not out to ANYBODY, except for you, now. And my friend, apparently. I just don’t see this working out.” George didn’t know what to say. He knew that he shouldn’t be this invested in a relationship that was hours in the making, but… he sighed, nodding dejectedly. He should have expected this. His heart dropped to his stomach, and he bit the inside of his cheek.

            “I understand.” He said softly. Sam nodded as well, looking torn.

            “I-I’m sorry… we can try and be friends?” He asked. George looked up at him, smiling convincingly.

            “Yeah! That would be nice. Better, even.” He assured Sam. “You can never have too many friends.” Sam nodded, looking down at his uneaten pizza, picking at the plate.

            “Yeah… is there anywhere I can drive you to? To pay you back for... the pizza?” He asked, and the words ‘for taking care of me this morning’ hung between them. George’s eyes widened, and he looked down, ashamed.

            “Ah, actually… my parents cut me off. For being gay. I was supposed to stay with a friend but they… kicked me out too.” He said softly, looking away. Being cut off was EMBARRASSING, not to mention that he went from having… let’s just say a lot of money to being completely broke, not to mention living in another country. He heard Sam sigh and groan from across the table, and when he looked over Sam was staring at the ceiling, seeming to be having a conversation with it. After a couple moments, he looked back at George.

            “There’s absolutely nowhere else you can stay?” He asked, and George shook his head with wide eyes. Sam sighed again. “I guess…. you can stay here….” George’s eyes widened, even more, and a smile grew on his face. “As long as you follow some rules, and ONLY until you get back on your feet.” He said, slowly and clearly so George would not mistake his words. George nodded eagerly, and he sat up straighter. Things were already looking up, and so what if he and Sam had to have an annulment. They could still be friends, and it would be even better than if they were married.

            “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” He exclaimed, rushing around the island and pulling Sam into a giant hug, unable to stop himself. He eventually let Sam go. “Sammy, you-“ Sam interrupted him.

            “Rule number 1: Don’t call me ‘Sammy’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY this literally took me so long to update. I don't have an excuse... I'm going to try and be better. I won't be able to update again until the end of August because I have to turn my computer back in for school on the 1st, and won't get it back until we start up again. They have to... clear it, or whatever. ANYWAYS sorry again for the long wait. If you're looking for more quality kingbury/Samuel Seabury content, there's always my Tumblr blog: ask-sam-seabury@tumblr.com check it out it's pretty cool.... ;)  
> Thank you for all the love and support on the other chapters, I love ALL OF YOU. Also if anyone wants to write the smut from before chapter one they 100% can because that's not really my area of expertise. Love you guys! :D <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette and Sam discuss the previous Sunday's events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes, I'm back. And so is Lafayette. :P

Sam had spent the past week with George, and if he was being honest, it might have been the hardest week of his entire life. 

On Monday, George decided that he was going to 'be a good roommate' and make Sam breakfast. This would have been sweet, if he knew how. So instead of waking up to delicious food, he woke up to the smoke alarm. Apparently, George thought you were supposed to microwave pop tarts when they were still in the wrapper. Tuesday, he decided he wanted to take a relaxing shower. Which turned in to one hour, which then quickly turned in to three hours, leaving Sam with nothing but cold water. Wednesday wasn't too bad, despite George playing loud music and dancing as he cleaned. While George had shown up with no skills, Sam quickly taught him how to clean up after himself. That included sweeping, folding blankets and clothes, washing his own dishes, etc. 

As many antics as George got into, the absolute worst thing was the touching and the talking. George was always so loud, as if everyone needed to hear about how his hair wasn't as soft as it used to be. He was constantly touching Sam's arm when they were talking, constantly hugging Sam whenever he felt like it. No conversation would be able to explain personal space to George, and Sam was never going to have the energy to try. 

Thankfully, however, Sunday came. Sam could finally get right with God, as well as beg him for a sign instructing him to kick George out. He had been researching ways to annul their marriage, but so far he hadn't been able to work up the courage to actually call anyone. He went from not being out to anyone to being in a same-sex marriage and being out to one of his subordinates. He just wasn't sure that he could handle telling anyone else, even if that person had no stake in telling anyone.

Despite all of that, he decided to invite his new roommate to church. George had wanted to come, surprisingly, and Sam had mournfully agreed. Even though they didn't get along, he would hate himself if he didn't at least attempt to share his religion. Besides, who knew what good could possibly come out of it?

They had hardly been in the entryway for more than a couple of minutes before Lafayette was making a beeline for Sam, and the look on his face only held trouble for everyone involved. Sam quickly pointed George towards one of the pews, wanting to get him out of the way before Lafayette made it over. "Sit there and I'll be right back," He instructed, before quickly turning and intercepting Lafayette, dragging him outside where they could talk in peace. 

"Please tell me that you haven't told anyone." Sam begged before Laf could say anything, putting his hands on his friend's shoulders so that he would realize how serious it was and pay attention.

"Please tell me that he is not your husband, because I'm going to be forced to seduce him if he gives me anymore doe-eyes." Laf said, peeking around to try and get a look at George through the entryway. 

"Lafayette, this is serious." He said, voice a little sharper than it needed to be, and he instantly regretted it, but tried to maintain the stern look on his face. 

"I am being serious! Sam, don't worry. I'm not going to tell anyone that you're secretly a gay man, or that you are secretly gay-married after drinking copious amounts of gay alcohol." He said, rolling his eyes. "Just tell me everything! Is he the monogamous missionary-loving christian that you always imagined?" He said, pretending to swoon, and Sam quickly let go of him, trying not to look so upset so that people wouldn't see that there was something wrong.

"He's the worst! He's so loud, and ignorant. He really doesn't know how to do anything by himself! I had to teach him how to use a vacuum!" He said, hoping that he was finally talking with someone who understood his sorrows. 

Lafayette looked back into the entryway, watching as George quickly jumped away from the door to pretend he wasn't listening. Lafayette visibly sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He can hardly keep his eyes off you. But you don't like him?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, looking at Sam as if he were looking into his soul.

"You should have seen him when he thought we were going to stay married - I feel so bad that I had to break it off." Sam explained, putting his face in his hands. "Maybe I wouldn't be so upset if getting caught wouldn't lose me my job... but what am I supposed to do, stay married out of guilt? That's no way for a relationship. Especially with someone as annoying and silly as he can be." He said, glancing at George as well, and Lafayette had a pitying look on his face, though he tried to hide it when Sam turned back around.

"You sound like you need some time to yourself." Lafayette said, and it was obvious that he was forming a plan. "Why don't you let me take him out for dinner or something, for a night, and you can get your mess in order." He said, and Sam assumed that he was referring to the annulment. "I'm sure he's not as annoying as you say he is."

Sam thought about it for a second before shrugging. "I... that might actually be nice..." He said, nodding slowly. "That would be great, thank you." He said, smiling for the first time in days, putting a hand on Lafayette's shoulder. "You're doing me a huge favor."

Lafayette rolled his eyes, pushing his hand off. "This is just an excuse for me to spend time with your twink of a husband." He said, a teasing tone in his voice, and he moved past Sam and back into the church. Sam followed behind him, and quickly made his way back into the sanctuary, saying 'Hi' to people as he walked past. He sat down next to George, leaning back against the pew. 

"I really like the way your church is built, with the windows and stuff." George said conversationally, putting an arm on the back of the pew behind Sam nonchalantly, and Sam's cheeks went red. He quickly moved George's arm, huffing like a child at how self-concious it made him feel. 

"Can't you see that we're in public? And in a church no less." He stated, crossing his arms and ignoring the hurt look on George's face. He obviously had no idea what it was that he'd done wrong, and quickly put his hands in his lap and otherwise acting like a kicked puppy. Sam glanced pver at him for a moment, before trying to come up with something to do or say that would make him smile again. "You know, my friend Lafayette invited you out to dinner later this week, if you want to go." He said, and George took the bait even quicker than imagined. 

He straightened, running a hand through his hair and looking positively vain, almost smirking at what he assumed was a date. "Yeah, you know me, lose one precious gem and pick up another." He said, peeking over at Sam to see if he was jealous or not before turning around and looking for the unknown man. "He's the guy you were talking to earlier, right? He's pretty cute, I guess. I mean, he doesn't compare to-" He stopped, turning back around quickly in his seat. "To other people." He mumbled, and Sam shook his head, thankful as the music started playing that he didn't have to respond. 


End file.
